Thoughts on Soulmates
by Lady Arreya
Summary: Inspired by the episode "Designated Target." What do Tony and Ziva really think about soulmates? TIVA.
1. Why Didn't You Stop Me?

Title: Thoughts on Soulmates  
Rating: T  
Summary: Inspired by the episode "Designated Target." What do Tony and Ziva really think about soulmates?

A/N: I found this episode very poignant, and several of the quotes stood out in my mind. I also puzzled over what that look he gave her in the end meant… and this is what I finally came up with. I had to think about the episode as a whole, from beginning to end.

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"_Why didn't you stop me?"_

She felt annoyed. Why should it be up to her to stop him from doing stupid things? She wasn't his mother. Tony was a grown man, and he should have known better.

He'd been impossibly rude, grabbing the phone out of her hand like that. Aunt Nettie was surely having hysterics. Worse yet, Ziva suddenly realized with horror, Aunt Nettie would tell Ziva's father. She groaned, picturing that awkward conversation with him. _"You got married and didn't tell us?! To who? It's that American boy DiNozzo, isn't it! He's so possessive he won't even let you talk to your Aunt Nettie?"_

She had a lot of damage control to do, and she wasn't looking forward to it. She wasn't sure that Aunt Nettie would understand even after she explained it.

And all because Tony couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Why did he insist on behaving like a Neanderthal? Hadn't his mother taught him any manners?

It irked her to no end.

And yet… Some base, primitive, feminine part of her had found it thrilling. Had gloried in his display of possessiveness of her.

The way he'd growled those death threats with such raw masculine power had been almost… sexy. Mesmerizing.

She'd been stunned speechless. He'd claimed he was her husband, and for one brief instant, she'd secretly allowed herself to imagine that it was true.

Was that what it would be like? Would he defend her, fight to the death for her?

She kind of liked being the object of male desire and protectiveness. The primal need to fight for one's mate. Even if it was only pretend.

That never happened to her. Usually men didn't feel the need or desire to protect her. She was too tough, too intimidating. And she'd thought herself too much of a feminist to ever like it. She'd thought she'd find it repulsive.

But she didn't. At least, not when Tony did it.

He'd sounded so convincing, even to her ears. Even though she knew it wasn't real. None of it. But, oh, for a moment it was so easy to believe that it was. She'd wished that it was.

But she'd never admit to any of that, even if she was tortured.

(To be continued in Chapter 2...)


	2. Where Do I Send Flowers?

"_Where do I send flowers?"_

Tony watched her walk away, feeling really stupid but also a little angry. Sure, he'd messed up, but it had been an easy mistake to make.

He tried not to let her see how much she'd hurt him by deflecting attention to McGee. But he could still feel the hostility emanating from her.

She had cut him to the quick with her scathing words. It made him feel like he was five years old again, being yelled at by his father. _"Can't you do anything right? You're nothing but a screw-up!"_

His mother hadn't been much better. He'd tried to please her, but winning her approval had usually meant he had to do something that made him look ridiculous. Like dressing up in a sailor suit, which had only made the other kids laugh at him.

Every time Ziva cut him down, it re-opened all those old wounds.

He'd learned from an early age that the people who were supposed to love and support you most could really hurt and degrade you. It was why he guarded his heart so closely. It was the only way he could protect himself. He could never let himself get too close to a woman because if he did, she'd have the power to devastate him. And he didn't know if he could survive the pain.

Maybe he was being really sexist, but it was different somehow when a woman criticized him rather than a man. He didn't let other men get too close to him either, but he didn't mind as much if a man insulted him. Gibbs got on his case all the time, but Tony didn't take it personally. It was how men were supposed to be with each other. Gibbs only called him on his mistakes so he could improve his work and get the job done. He didn't cut him down for who he was as a person.

Besides, he felt that Gibbs was fair.

Women didn't play fair. They asked for help, then cut you off at the knees when you tried to oblige them.

Look what had happened with the La Grenouille mission. He'd tried so hard to win the Director's approval by carrying out the mission exactly the way she wanted him to, at great risk to himself. He'd had to deceive Jeanne, Gibbs, Ziva, McGee, Abby, Ducky, everyone. He'd worked countless extra hours, led a double life for months, nearly gotten himself blown up… and for what?

In the end, he couldn't help feeling like the price he'd had to pay was too high. The Director had gotten what she'd wanted – La Grenouille dead – but was it worth the fallout with Jeanne, his team and the CIA?

And then finding out that the Director had a personal vendetta against La Grenouille because of her father… He'd felt used. He'd felt like she had betrayed him.

No wonder it was so hard for him to trust women.

But he actually trusted Ziva. He trusted her more than any other woman he'd known in his life. Ziva had helped him through the aftermath of that mission. She'd confronted him and refused to let him avoid dealing with the pain. He'd opened up to her emotionally. She was his friend. And friends helped each other, right?

He was grateful to her, but it was hard for him to tell her that. It was much easier for him to express it in actions. Which was why he'd jumped at the chance to help her.

She'd asked him for advice, hadn't she? Wasn't that what she'd wanted?

All he'd wanted to do was take action and solve her problem. It had seemed simple at the time.

Unfortunately, nothing was simple with Ziva. He couldn't ever do anything right with her.

He hadn't done it on purpose. He wanted to apologize to her and to Aunt Nettie, but she wouldn't even give him the chance. She acted like he would only make everything worse.

She made him feel so inadequate, so inferior. He hated feeling that way.

He'd been taught to protect women, to look out for them. That was what it meant to be a man. But how could he define himself as a man, if women like Ziva were going to insist on not needing any protection? She'd made it clear that she had little use for him.

He really hated women's lib sometimes. He didn't know how he was supposed to behave anymore.

And he really wasn't sure what had possessed him to say that he was her husband, but it had felt good. It was what he'd wanted to say to… well, all the guys Ziva liked. He didn't like it when Ziva went out with anyone. He was jealous of any man she paid attention to.

He wanted to say, "She's _mine_."


	3. You Are So Prejudiced

"_You are so prejudiced."_

Sometimes she really didn't understand him. How could he be so insensitive, so prejudiced? Was that how he really felt, or was he doing it on purpose to hurt her and keep her at arm's length? She couldn't tell. But he had to know how offensive and inappropriate his comments were. Didn't he?

His offhand comments had hurt her tremendously. Did he really look down on her for being a foreigner? Or did he just feel insecure and want to attack her the only way he could?

It didn't sit well with her either way.

She was sensitive about issues of race and immigration. People could tell that she wasn't American-born, and some of them seemed to hold it against her. It was difficult being an immigrant in the U.S. these days. After 9/11, there seemed to be a culture of fear. Xenophobia ran rampant, and sentiments of patriotism were at an all-time high. Many Americans were suspicious of foreigners. They sized you up, trying to figure out if you were friend or foe, if you were to be feared and hated. They looked down on you for having an accent. They treated you like you were stupid when you misunderstood idioms or cultural aspects that you weren't familiar with. And they were impatient when you didn't understand something right away.

She wasn't used to it. Compared to people in other countries, people in the U.S. were not very tolerant.

It was ironic, considering that the U.S. was supposed to be the land of opportunity for immigrants. A land of equality for everyone. The Americans prided themselves on diversity, yet demanded that everyone speak English, and speak it fluently. They seemed disinterested in learning much about other countries or their languages, and they seemed to feel entitled to their position as the dominant world power. They rarely felt like they were overstepping their bounds, even when many people from other countries felt like they were and resented them for it.

She couldn't understand why so many Americans felt like they were superior to the rest of the world.

In Europe, most people could speak multiple languages and were used to traveling between different countries and learning about different cultures. But in the U.S., people seemed to be separated from each other in ethnic enclaves. How could that be considered embracing diversity? So many people here seemed to be afraid of others who were different.

The Americans were so proud of their society, their advancements and technological prowess, and yet they sometimes seemed backward compared to other modern countries. Ziva found all the contradictions extremely confusing. They were prudish about sexual mores and yet completely obsessed with sex at the same time. She also couldn't understand why there was so much homophobia or why the military would exclude people from serving based on sexual orientation.

Sexism was also common. She couldn't understand that either. Most of the women she knew could take care of themselves. Certainly Director Sheppard could. Though Ziva had seen her battle her share of discrimination as well.

Other countries were more enlightened in that regard and had women in top leadership positions. The U.S. had never had a woman president or vice president, and probably never would in her lifetime.

There were some things she would just never understand. Even though she had been in the U.S. for over two years, Ziva felt like she was still constantly struggling to adapt. She felt strong kinship with other immigrants and had compassion for them. Many had left their homelands to escaping oppression, persecution and poverty for a chance at a better life. But how many of them were able to actually reach that goal? Sometimes it seemed like it was worse here. Having to adjust to a completely different society, one that was not always accepting, was jarring.

She'd come here to escape her father, whom she'd grown to find oppressive. She'd let him dictate for too long who she was supposed to be. He was still trying to control her, but she was determined not to let him.

Nor would she let anyone else. She wanted to be her own person. She wanted to be herself.

But it was hard to do that when there was so much pressure to be someone else.

It wasn't fair. It was so hard to fit in, but she kept trying because she really wanted to be liked and accepted. This was her new home, and she planned to stay indefinitely.

She hated being treated like an outsider. She couldn't stand being excluded, made fun of, or discriminated against.

Especially not by Tony.

She had to admit his insults only bothered her so much because she cared about him and wanted him to care about her too.

(To be continued in Chapter 4…)


	4. Why Don't You Like Immigrants?

A/N: I also added more to Chapter 3, which I had previously left out because I was concerned that it might offend some people. Thanks to M.E. Wofford for convincing me not to censor myself too much. :)

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"_Why don't you like immigrants?"_

Where had that come from? He couldn't believe she had just asked him that.

Had she not been paying attention at the cab company? He was one of the good guys. He was trying to protect those taxi drivers, most of whom were immigrants and refugees, from being exploited.

Their meeting with Bayliss at the cab company had made him feel ill. That man had no conscience. He was exploiting new immigrants and refugees for his own profit.

Tony was angry. He wanted to expose Bayliss for the small-minded criminal he was.

Didn't she see that? That he was trying to help?

No. Ziva always focused on the negative when it came to him. It really bothered him.

It didn't help that there was a lot riding on this case. It only added to the tension between them. This particular case they were working on was not only racially charged, but politically as well. Multiple African-American men had been shot execution style and would continue to be unless they figured out how to stop it. It might not just be limited to refugees from Burundi. Whoever these people were, they weren't taking any chances. They'd kill all of the men they thought might be Thomas Zuri, just to be sure he was really dead and no longer a threat to them in any way.

All the passengers riding in the cabs were also in grave danger. These extremists were ruthless and would go to any lengths to make sure that their target was really dead and that there were no witnesses who could identify them. No matter how many people they had to kill.

They needed answers, and they needed them now. Their talk with Mr. Abaka had given them some leads, but it wasn't enough.

When they'd questioned Abaka, he'd thought they'd been doing the whole "good cop, bad cop" thing. Ziva had seemed more sympathetic to Abaka, so Tony had figured he'd be the bad cop this time. It was how Abaka was bound to perceive them, anyway. Ziva was a woman and an immigrant herself. And Tony was a white, American man in a position of government authority. He figured he might as well use it to his advantage and play the tough one for once.

His instincts had told him something was shady about this guy. Why was he so willing to talk to them when none of the others would? What if Abaka was just trying to get information from them, to sell or use for his own purposes?

He'd had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

Ziva had picked up on it too. But then she'd somehow managed to twist it all around and accuse him of not liking immigrants. He'd bristled at her loaded question. And had also cringed when he'd realized that she'd actually used a contraction in that question. Come to think of it, she did know how to use contractions. She used them all the time. It had been a stupid thing to say.

He didn't have anything against immigrants. Quite the contrary. But he recognized that not all immigrants had good intentions and could not be treated uniformly. He was just trying to sort out who was who so they could bring the bad guys to justice and protect the innocent.

He could be more sensitive, he had to admit. Sometimes he just didn't think before he spoke. He certainly hadn't meant to offend anyone with that comment about the Romanian orphans. How could she think that? He'd only been trying to poke fun at McGee.

But Ziva always attacked him, jumped on every little thing he said wrong.

He wasn't perfect, but he wasn't a bad person. He was definitely not a racist. He took offense at that. She'd accused him of being prejudiced, and it had hurt more than any physical blow she could have delivered.

He felt unfairly blamed. Just because he was a white man didn't mean he had to feel personally responsible for everyone's suffering, did it? Yes, white people had oppressed black people and other minorities for centuries, and he sometimes felt guilty about that, but how could it possibly be his fault?

He was so sick of hearing about "white privilege" and "male privilege," and how they helped him get ahead. He hadn't had the world handed to him on a silver platter like a lot of people thought. He'd had to start working when he was 12! His parents hadn't coddled him. Truth be told, they hadn't done a very good job of parenting him at all.

Tony valued Ziva's opinion and wanted her approval, but no matter how hard he tried, it just wasn't good enough. When she treated him with cool indifference, or worse, disdain, it hurt. It hurt so much that he couldn't even put it into words.

He felt so frustrated with her sometimes. She was better than him at most things, and it rankled. She showed no weaknesses. All he had left to criticize was her less than perfect command of the English language, which wasn't really even a weakness. She could communicate just fine, and her mistakes were actually charming. Cute, even.

It was the only thing he could make fun of with her, but even that fell flat. It sounded so petty. It _was_ petty. He knew that.

She was so competent at everything that it made him feel like a fool most of the time. She was skilled at surveillance, martial arts, cooking, dancing, shooting… and the list went on and on. She had a photographic memory, could pick any lock, de-fuse bombs, break into cars within seconds and take down half a dozen men unarmed. She had more combat experience than he would ever have, spoke five languages, had traveled all over the world, and always had a quick retort to his jokes.

She could even get the damn vending machine to accept a wrinkled-up old dollar when he couldn't.

She always showed him up, and it made him feel incredibly insecure.

(To be continued in Chapter 5…)


	5. Have You Met Your Soulmate?

"_Have you met your soulmate, miss? You will know the minute you do."_

Sayda's words echoed in her head.

She'd seemed so convinced that Thomas was still alive. She had faith, and she knew with every fiber of her being that she and Thomas were meant to be together. That they were soulmates.

Her words had been compelling, but Ziva wasn't so sure they were true.

Was it really possible to have a soulmate? Did soulmates really exist?

For a time, she'd thought that perhaps Roy Sanders was her soulmate. He was everything she'd wanted. They were so much alike, and she'd had a connection with him like she'd had with no one else.

Or was it only because of the circumstances, both of them knowing that he only had a short time to live, and that they had to treasure every moment they had together? Had she been freer and more open-hearted with him because she had known she wasn't going to have to commit, that they were never going to have a future together?

She wasn't sure. What they'd shared was special, but it had been so brief and so prematurely cut short. Who knew what would have happened had he lived. Or if they had they met under different circumstances. The tragedy of the situation had intensified her feelings and her sense of vulnerability, perhaps.

Sometimes she thought maybe Tony was her soulmate. The thought often prickled in the back of her mind, unbidden, but she always tried to push it out as soon as it entered awareness. It was too scary, what she felt for him. She knew him so well, and yet always wanted to know even more. If only he'd let her in.

But a part of her didn't want that. It was too terrifying. She didn't know if he was really her soulmate. If he really were, wouldn't she _know_? Wouldn't he? Weren't you supposed to just _know_? Or did it not work that way for everyone? Did some people have to figure it out more than others?

Besides, how could he possibly be her soulmate when they were so different? Shouldn't her soulmate be someone more like her? Someone of her religious and cultural background?

Someone who wasn't such a sexist pig, and a racist?

No, that wasn't fair. Despite his faults, Tony was a good man.

How could she make him understand?

She didn't want him to look down on her for being a foreigner, or for being a woman.

It was bad enough having to work twice as hard to prove herself because she was a woman. She'd had to do that her entire life. And now she had to prove herself because she was a foreigner and minority?

Look at what had happened with the FBI. They'd been so quick to implicate her in the café bombing that had killed two FBI agents, and she'd ended up on their "Most Wanted" list.

That still stung.

And yet, Tony had stood up for her and risked his life to help her. He was always there for her when she really needed him. He believed the best about her.

She couldn't deny that she was inexplicably drawn to him, even though she didn't want to be. Even though she fought against it.

It wasn't just a physical attraction. There were times when she felt so close to him. They had a profound connection.

Maybe they really were soulmates but just weren't ready to be together yet. Maybe they had to learn to understand each other better before that could happen.

_Maybe I should just ask him_, she thought.

If he were really her soulmate, he should feel it too.

(To be continued in Chapter 6…)


	6. Do You Ever Think About Soulmates?

"_Do you ever think about soulmates?"_

He didn't know what to think of her question. It scared him, so he tried to make a joke out of it to avoid having to answer. As usual. He couldn't help it. It was a reflex. She had such a knack for piercing him where he was most vulnerable. It wasn't just the question she'd asked – it was the seriousness, the quiet intensity with which she'd asked it. Like she really wanted to know and could see right through him.

Of course he thought about soulmates. All the time. He'd seen so many of his friends, co-workers and ex-girlfriends find "the one" and settle down happily. They had all found soulmates. Why hadn't he?

They made it look so easy.

It was never that easy for him.

Most of the time he told himself that it was all a bunch of bullshit. There was no such thing as soulmates. Everyone just had to settle for what they could get. And he wasn't going to settle. He didn't want to be tied down. He didn't want or need a life partner and was much happier having causal flings and a series of one-night stands.

But it was getting harder to convince himself of that. It only left him feeling empty and hollow.

He'd thought for a while that maybe Jeanne was his soulmate. But that had only turned out to be a disaster, just like every other relationship he'd ever had. He'd only been kidding himself. How could she be his soulmate when she didn't know who he really was? When he'd lied to her from day one and had only sought her out and pursued her because he'd been assigned to?

They weren't soulmates. She hated him now, and he couldn't blame her. He'd gravely wronged her, and there was nothing he could ever do to make up for that.

Jeanne deserved better, anyway. She deserved to find true happiness, and that was not something she'd ever be able to have with him.

He wondered if it had been easier to commit to her because he knew it wasn't for real. Would he have been able to do that if he'd been himself? He doubted it. Even in playing a role, commitment had been hard.

When they'd first started dating, he'd told her he was still single because he was waiting to find the right girl. It wasn't entirely true because sometimes he thought he'd found her already. He didn't really have to look if she was already in front of him, did he?

But he'd never admit it. Especially not to Ziva, which was why he'd deflected her probing question about soulmates.

It had hurt when she'd dismissed him, and with such contempt.

"_You'll never get it."_

No, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he got it a little too well.

But he could never tell her that.

How could he tell her when he had such a hard time acknowledging it to even himself?

His greatest fear was that he was too emotionally damaged to ever have a serious, long-term relationship.

There were many good reasons why he was commitment-phobic. He was afraid of being trapped in a bad marriage, like his parents had been. His father had treated his mother badly, and Tony had no idea how to be a good husband. And because his father hadn't been there for his mother, she'd focused all of her attention and need for companionship on her son instead. Tony felt like he'd had to sacrifice too much to please his mother. He'd had enough of commitment, from her.

He also hadn't completely healed from the emotional wounds from being neglected and verbally abused by his father. He was afraid to let anyone, especially a woman, have that kind of emotional control over him.

Attempting to have a commitment might just prove how inadequate he really was.

It was safer to be alone. That way he wouldn't get hurt. He was terrified that if he ever did lose his heart, fall in love, and it didn't work out…

It would destroy him.

(To be continued in Chapter 7...)


	7. I Am Just Glad You Are Safe

"_I am just glad you are safe."_

Ziva closed the door behind Sayda and watched regretfully as the car drove away. She wondered if she had made a mistake in insisting that Sayda be allowed to come along. Had she only set her up for disappointment?

Tony seemed to fault her for that, judging from the look he was giving her. He had been more skeptical and cynical. He had pointed out that Thomas might have already been killed, that they might never find him, or that he might not be the same person Sayda thought he was.

Ziva knew all that, but she still felt in her heart that she had made the right decision. It was better to know the truth, and to hear it directly from the person you loved. Sayda had needed to see Thomas again.

Thomas had given her up for dead and given up on their love, but Sayda hadn't railed at him. She hadn't turned on him or accused him of betraying her or not loving her as much as she loved him. She'd been understanding and loving. Saddened and disappointed, but not crushed or immobilized.

She loved him enough to let him go.

Ziva deeply admired Sayda's strength and determination. She'd handled a difficult situation with grace and poise. She was a survivor, able to move on despite the adversity she'd suffered.

But Ziva also felt conflicted. Sayda had felt with such conviction that Thomas was her soulmate. So much so that she'd held out hope for 7 years. She'd never lost faith in him, or their love, and it had been inspiring. It had made Ziva feel like maybe there was hope for her.

But finding out that Thomas had a new wife and a child… it had been heartbreaking.

Ziva wasn't sure what to think about soulmates. Could you have more than one? Or was that impossible, defying the definition?

Sayda had been so sure Thomas was her soulmate, but she'd been wrong. Or had she? Ziva didn't know. It was all so confusing.

She understood what Sayda had meant, though, that it was enough that he was safe. She understood all too well.

She felt it every time Tony was in danger. She didn't usually let it distract her, but there had been many times when she'd feared for his safety. She had to constantly remind herself that he could take care of himself. And he could, but it was difficult not to worry. Like when they'd been undercover together as a married couple. He'd readily sacrificed himself for the mission, and she'd had no choice at the time. But she'd been so worried about him. She'd had to trust that he could defend himself.

And when they'd been trapped in the shipping container and she'd inadvertently sent that bullet ricocheting everywhere, she'd felt the need to shield him. She'd instinctively thrown herself on top of him, putting herself at risk instead.

Would she have done that if it had been McGee or Gibbs?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

She really wasn't sure.

All she knew was that she felt an overwhelming urge to protect Tony.

There had been too many close calls.

The worst was when she had thought him dead, blown up in a car bomb while undercover. The pain had cut deep down into her very soul. She had prayed and hoped that he had survived, but she had learned to expect the worse.

When they'd arrived on the scene, all that was left were the charred remains of his car, his badge… and what seemed to be his body.

The grief she'd felt at that moment had been almost unbearable. She had felt that if only he were alive – if would be enough. Even if he never loved her back, even if she never saw him again because he loved Jeanne and decided to leave with her forever… It would be enough just to know that he was all right and out there somewhere.

She had felt so immensely relieved when he'd turned up alive and unharmed.

Yet every time they went out into the field and Tony was in the line of danger, that panicked feeling threatened to overwhelm her again.

Even just now, when they'd been caught in the crossfire, she'd tried to protect him. She did it because if Tony were seriously hurt, injured or killed… she didn't know what she would do. She felt that she would be damaged so badly that she would never recover.

But for now…

He was safe.

And it was enough.

The End

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Author's Endnote: I personally believe that Tony and Ziva really are soulmates but aren't ready to be together yet. In some theories about soulmates, the soul needs to find balance between the masculine and feminine before it properly can reunite with its soulmate. In this story, Tony and Ziva aren't quite there yet, but I will be exploring this theme (albeit subtly) in a future story. :)


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